


faith

by stefonzolesky



Category: Arrested Development
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 16:26:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13721547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stefonzolesky/pseuds/stefonzolesky
Summary: The point is, relationships are weird and scary -- feelings are weird and scary. And it’s not so easy to jump into something like this, at least not as easy as Gob might have hoped it would be.





	faith

_I need some time off from that emotion, time to pick my heart up off the floor._

 

So Gob might be a sort of gay-ish. That’s not the problem. The problem is that being gay-ish is sort of overwhelming, no matter how incredibly okay with it he is.

And it’s not the sex. That’s not the problem either. The sex is _great._ It’s more the… feelings part. The part where he needs to communicate and the part where he has to address the desire to _fucking hold Tony’s hand._

It just doesn’t make any sense. He’s never wanted that before, so he doesn’t get why it’s suddenly all he can think about. He doesn’t really understand the part where he wants to make Tony breakfast in the morning, or the part where he doesn’t want to sneak out in the middle of the night, now that he’s thinking about it. There’s a lot of things, in this… situation he’s somehow landed himself in, that he doesn’t quite understand.

That’s the overwhelming thing. Those are the parts he doesn’t get. And no matter how much he wishes he could, he just can’t get the hang of it. He’s not the kind of guy to get flustered, except that’s what keeps happening. But that’s neither here nor there.

The point is, relationships are weird and scary -- feelings are weird and scary. And it’s not so easy to jump into something like this, at least not as easy as Gob might have hoped it would be.

He thought after Cinco, everything would be simple, but it’s not and there’s no way it can be. Which sucks. It really does. He thought that since he skipped any grievance of his heterosexuality, it might be alright to jump right into a relationship. If they can even call it that. It’s just sex and pills and sometimes Gob stays for breakfast and sometimes Tony wonders _(did somebody say--)_ how he got there and he has to come up with some bullshit lie about how he snuck in and why he snuck in just because Tony keeps _fucking taking pills._

Gob is… feelings. He’s feelings, and it _sucks_ and it’s _weird_ and he _hates_ how much he _doesn’t hate it._ Tony seems so _comfortable_ with it, or maybe he’s faking, which Gob just can’t _fucking risk because he would sacrifice so much for this guy in a heartbeat which sucks so bad!_

There’s really no way of knowing. Because Gob doesn’t know the way that Tony looks at him when he isn’t paying attention, he only knows the way that _he_ looks at _Tony_ when _Tony_ isn’t paying attention -- like a lovesick idiot.

If Tony keeps taking the pills, he must be doing something wrong. And he’s used to pretending that he hasn’t done something wrong, even when it’s obvious that he has. But this isn’t something he can just… ignore. Because he really likes Tony, and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

You shouldn’t… bring up forget-me-nows to someone who keeps taking forget-me-nows, that’s just a rule. But Gob feels like he’s been punched in the gut every time Tony calls him back about having lost a day or two. He thinks maybe just this once, he can talk about it.

“I think…” He tries to phrase it delicately. “I might need to take your pills from you. Or maybe you should leave them at home when you come over.”

Gob winces lightly as the words settle behind Tony’s eyes, and the wince is definitely premature, but he assumes that it will be called for.

But when Tony breathes out a relieved _“Finally,”_ Gob doesn’t know what to make of the situation.

“What?” He sits up a little straighter, hugging a pillow to his chest. Tony is still laying down next to him. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m not stupid, Gob,” Tony mutters, his eyes slowly meeting Gob’s. “I’m not taking any pills. I’ve just been waiting for you to say something. I was hoping you might tell me the truth. This is the next best thing.”

“You…” Gob’s mouth is dry. “You lied to me?”

“I mean, I guess,” Tony starts. “But you lied to me. So we’re even?”

“What?” Gob bites hard on his lip to keep himself from saying anything too rash. “You lied to _me_ first. And then I lied to you, and then you lied to me again. The first time, it cancelled out.” He hesitates, and then relief floods his body. “But you remember.”

Tony mumbles an apology, and his feet hit the ground. “I can go, if you want.” He’s already looking for his shirt.

“No, it’s…” Gob hesitates. “It’s fine. I just need a minute. I need to…” He slides out of bed. “Check on my bees.”

“Great excuse,” Tony deadpans, and Gob halts.

“What?” He turns to face Tony. “Excuse? No, Tony, I need to actually go check on my bees. They’re sick.”

“Oh.” Tony falters. “Alright.”

 

The bees are sort of a weird thing. Because Gob is hardly good at taking care of himself, how can he take care of a _fuck-ton of bees?_

He tries his hardest, though, because it might be the most he’s cared about something living in a long, long time. _Besides Tony,_ he reminds himself, and for fuck’s sake, why does he have to remind himself?

It’s the denial. That’s why. His and Tony’s relationship is built off of lies, but hey, Tony remembers. That’s the important part. Isn’t it? The lies shouldn’t matter, the stupid schemes that they both played. None of that should matter.

So why does he keep thinking about it?

Maybe he _is_ upset. And he can’t seem to talk himself out of it. That’s fine, though, it’s all fine. Tony can be his boyfriend, now.

The word _boyfriend_ makes him shiver in eighty degree weather. He shrugs it off and checks on his bees, but the whole time he can picture Tony sitting alone in the back of his mind.

He immediately apologizes to Tony when he gets back inside, and then offers to make him breakfast.

“I’m fine,” Tony promises him. “I’m not hungry.”

Gob nods and sits down in the kitchen. Tony hesitates and then follows suit.

“Can we…” Gob’s mouth feels dry. “Can we, uh, can we… You. Can you… Can--” He takes a sharp breath, struggling to form words. “If-- Can-- Should--”

Tony watches him, his lips pressed into a thin line. Guilt weighs down in his eyes. Gob chokes on his words for a couple minutes before he swallows everything down and decides then and there that he should probably stop trying.

“Sorry,” He finally manages. “I just… yeah. Sorry. I don’t… I just wanted to-- To-- To-- To--”

“Hey,” Tony finally says, tentatively placing his hand over Gob’s. “You’re good. Okay? You’re okay.”

Gob nods and despite how badly he wants to try and get words out, he thinks better of it and instead stares at Tony’s hand over his like it’s the most curious thing in the world.

“Do you…” Tony hesitates. “Wanna just… talk?”

Gob feels his skin tighten around him. “I…” He starts, but he can’t vocalize the rest of the sentence. Tony doesn’t move his hand.

“We don’t have to,” He says. “We can just… sit here. I can put on a movie. Where do you keep your movies?”

Gob bites hard on his lip and finally forces himself to say something. “Yeah. That’s… Yeah. They’re under the TV.”

Tony waits a second before he picks his hand up from over Gob’s and makes his way to the weird basket of VHS tapes underneath their shoddy TV.

“You still use VHS?” Tony asks him, looking up with a dumb smile. “Hey, come sit on the couch while I pick something out.”

It’s that prompting that finally gets Gob to move. He settles himself quietly while Tony digs through the basket and decides on a movie.

 

Gob doesn’t pay attention to the movie. Instead, he pays attention to how Tony feels pressed up against him. This is all he wants. So why is he still upset?

Tony puts his hand on Gob’s thigh, and Gob shivers. He tries his hardest to vocalize his thoughts, what he’s been trying to say for so long, but it just doesn’t work.

“You like me, right?” He finally says. The words rush together, like he might lose them if he doesn’t say it fast enough.

Tony’s eyebrows furrow. “What? Of course I do.”

Gob nods slowly and mumbles, “Okay. Because I-- I wanted to… to talk-- Me-- There’s just so much… You’re so… so many-- I’m just-- I’m-- Should… should I-- Should you--”

“Hey, Gobie,” Tony interrupts. “You’re okay. Take your time.”

“I don’t…” Gob sucks in a breath. “I just want to _talk_.“ The words come out sharp and quick and Tony draws himself away from Gob in one smooth motion because it catches him off guard.

He blinks slowly. “You just… Oh. Okay, uh… Go ahead.”

“I… I don’t…” Gob finds himself just as unable to vocalize his thoughts as he’s ever been. “You were lying.” It’s all he can say.

“Yeah, and I…” Tony sighs softly. “I’m really sorry. I just wanted to see if you would stick around.”

“Well-- Well--” Gob starts to splutter. “You could do that without _lying_ to me! Come on!”

Tony frowns. “I know, alright? And I regret lying, and if you’d rather I leave--”

“No!” Gob yelps, knee-jerk. “God, no, don’t leave.”

“Are you sure?” Tony’s voice is soft. “I… I know that I would want me to leave, if I were you. But if you… I don’t know. I’m not good at talking, and this whole feelings thing is a lot, and I’m trying to figure it out.”

“You’re telling _me_ this?” Gob laughs, strangled and bitter. “Believe me, I know what it’s like.”

Tony doesn’t say anything else, so Gob decides _fuck it._

“Let’s just go for it,” He says. It feels like someone else is saying it, someone a lot more confident than him. “Let’s… do the whole thing. Let’s be boyfriends.”

Tony stares at him like he’s insane. Gob thinks that he actually might be going crazy. “Are you serious?”

“Is-- Is that a bad idea?” Gob starts to panic. “Should I-- Should I not-- Not… Should you-- Sh--”

“It’s _fine,”_ Tony interrupts. “It’s worth a shot.”

 

They say they’re gonna jump right into it, but they don’t _really_ jump right into it. It starts off with awkwardly feeling things out.

They don’t hold hands. They don’t go on dates. Nothing changes right away, even though they both keep saying that it will.

Gob doesn’t think it was supposed to change. He doesn’t say that, though. They’re never going to be that... picture-perfect couple. That’s not anything like who they are. Their relationship is built on lies and lies and, guess what? More lies. They’re not fully functional, but they’re something.

 

“Maybe we weren’t supposed to work like other people,” Gob tells Tony. They’re laying in bed, sharing a smoke with the windows down. Tony twists his neck to look at Gob, and maybe he wants to say something, but Gob doesn’t let him start. He hands Tony the cigarette and sighs. “I mean, Michael says that relationships are some beautiful thing that makes you happy and you want to see this person every day, and we have that, right?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, and Gob thinks that might be all he really _can_ say to this.

He grabs Tony’s hand for the first time. “That’s all we need, then. We don’t need to be stupid and go on cheesy dates like Michael says you do when you love someone.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

Tony doesn’t seem to register exactly what he said, and Gob is completely okay with that.

They _don’t_ do cheesy couple stuff and they _don’t_ go on dates and they _don’t_ watch the stars or wake up for the sunset, they don’t do any of the shitty couple stuff that Michael suggests. They go to bars and Gob dances closer to Tony than any girl, and he ends up in _Poof_ for once, and he’s thrilled even though there’s words over his face.

It’s nothing like he expected it to be. Not in the slightest. But he’s happier than he imagined himself being in a situation like this. It’s… really nice, and he and Tony are both able to overlook all the lying and the scheming they had done against each other.

 

“I wouldn’t be this happy with it,” Michael tells him, his voice dangerously steady. It’s almost ominous, and Gob really regrets confiding in his brother about this in particular.

He laughs haltingly. “You think I don’t know that?”

“No, I just…” Michael sighs in his typical Michael-y _‘you’re too dumb to understand’_ way. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right.” Gob finally lets himself smile. “It doesn’t. Just because you wouldn’t be happy doesn’t mean I can’t be. We’re not the same, Mike. You should know that by now.”

“Of course I know that, Gob.” Michael tries to smile, but it doesn’t quite work because he’s not any good at caring about people. Because he’s a robot. “I just…”

“You just?” Gob raises an eyebrow. “Nevermind it. I shouldn’t have said anything to you about this in the first place.”

Michael shrugs. He hesitates. “You want a beer?”

Gob feels any tension he had in his body leak out once he’s drunk enough. _Drunk enough_ is a subjective statement, but for him it’s the point where he can’t really feel his fingers or put a stop to his tongue.

As a Bluth, it takes a lot to get him drunk. But once they surpass the point where he and Michael are both having trouble walking in a straight line, he loses all hope of maintaining the harbor that he’s built with his younger brother.

He points a finger at Michael, and his hand is shaking a little, but he ignores it. “You don’t respect me,” He accuses.

Michael rolls his eyes and tries to sit up straight. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Gob shakes his head, biting hard on his lip. “It’s not,” He promises. “You-- You just don’t care about me, and that’s a fact! You need to be in control of everything, and you don’t care who you hurt trying to get it. Like Tobias, except Tobias likes me, and you don’t.”

“What… What does that have to do with _anything?”_ Michael has to focus on his words, and he nearly goes a little cross eyed trying to do so.

Gob shakes his head. It takes him a second to figure that out for himself, but he tries to articulate as well as he can when his head feels fuzzy. “Because you’re not happy for me.”

Michael falters. He looks like he’s trying to say something important, but he can’t find the right words. His eyebrows furrow together and he spits out an indignant, “Am too!”

“You’re _so_ not.” Gob takes another sip of his drink. “Otherwise you’d tell me that. You just-- All you ever talk about is how it’s _bad for me,_ but it’s not bad for me! Tony’s good for me!”

“I never said that,” Michael objects. He reaches for another beer, but has trouble opening it and eventually just gives up.

Gob sighs. “I’m leaving. I’m going--”

“You’re _drunk,”_ Michael cuts him off. “You have to stay here.”

 

One thing leads to another, and before he can register what exactly happened, Gob is being hauled back to Tony’s house while Mark Cherry blares on his car stereo.

“I can’t believe you,” Tony finally says, biting hard on his lip.

Gob throws his head back. “What are you _talking_ about?” He laughs. “I was… defending my… your honor. I was defending… defending our gay… relationship. I was talkin’ about how I love you.”

Tony hesitates. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Gob echoes. “Michael wasn’t… He says our relationship shouldn’t work, and he’s _wrong._ So we got drunk, and I drank… And he pissed me off. So here we are. You came to… to save me.” He flashes a crooked smile. “You’re like my knight in shining armor. And you even have glitter on you!”

“What?” Tony glances momentarily at his shirt, which is covered in glitter. He sighs. “Yeah, I was at a show, and this stuff is nearly impossible to get off.”

Gob hums in agreement. “There’s still some on… on my jeans. From the last one I went to. The last… your show.”

“I know.” Tony laughs softly. “I saw.” Pause. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this drunk. Or… drunk, period.”

“It’s not easy,” Gob mumbles. “I don’t… s’not easy for me to be drunk. It takes a lot… a lot of drinkin’.”

“I’ve noticed,” Tony tells him. “You two must’ve been drinking, like, really hard alcohol or something.”

“Was just beer,” Gob claims. Then, he caves. “At first. Then the other stuff. Vodka, and some others. And I smoked some weed ‘cause I was pissed off, and then I drank more.”

“ _Jesus,_ Gob!” Tony’s knuckles go white on the steering wheel. “What did he say to you?”

“I told you!” Gob huffs. “He told me that I shouldn’t be happy. That you… That you shouldn’t make me happy. But you do. Nobody cares about my happiness, though. That’s what they all tell me.”

Tony frowns. “I’m sure that Michael didn’t mean that you shouldn’t be happy.”

“Dunno.” Gob shrugs, slumping back in his seat. “It doesn’t matter. It’s jus’... I wish my family liked me. But they don’t like me.”

 

Gob doesn’t remember much past that point when he wakes up the next morning. His head is pounding, and he slips out of Tony’s bed to find a bottle of Aspirin. Tony is already making breakfast.

“How are you holding up?” He glances over at Gob, who is pouring himself a glass of water.

Gob shrugs. “Killer headache. Did I say anything stupid last night?”

“Not particularly,” Tony promises. “Although you _were_ hammered. I’ve never seen you so drunk that you couldn’t walk straight.”

“Happens sometimes.” Gob rubs at his temples. “Usually when I’m arguing with my family. Which is why you haven’t seen it. I’ve been avoiding them since we got together, for the most part. I’ve seen Michael some, but he hadn’t managed to argue with me until last night because I hadn’t give him anything to argue about.”

Tony nods, obviously looking for something to say but coming up short. He waits another minute, and then bites hard on his lip. “Do you want to go out to breakfast?”

“Yeah.” Gob smiles crookedly. “Just give me a little bit, for the Aspirin to kick in. Then I’ll get ready.”

Tony nods again and ducks out of the room, presumably to coat his hair with product. Gob buries his face in his hands as soon as Tony is gone, and he attempts to compose himself. His head is still throbbing, and he’s slowly piecing together the reasons he drank so much, and he never knew that being in love was so terrifying. He steadies his breathing and downs another glass of water, and then heads off to get dressed.

 

Sometimes, Tony gets upset about the way Gob abuses his forget-me-nows. Gob knows that he has a right to be upset about it, too. It’s just… a habit. An unfortunate quirk that tends to end with hospitals and Gob losing money quickly, and it also happens to be a habit that he can’t seem to break.

Tony starts to wedge himself between Gob in the pills in any way that he can. He likes to postpone the visit to buy more with movies and breakfast and sex. Gob is thankful, but it’s _weird_ to not have holes in his memory.

It’s always Gob saying he’s off to buy more, and Tony announcing that dinner is almost ready, or Gob is off to buy more, and Tony saying that a movie marathon is on TV an he wants Gob to watch with him.

It’s when Gob actually realizes that Tony is actively trying to keep him from buying pills that he realizes maybe Tony is changing him for the better. He’s slipping out of this pattern that he’s always had as a fallback, but he isn’t scared. Sometimes he thinks he should be. Tony reminds him that he shouldn’t be.

 

“This works, right?” He asks one day, when they’re rewatching the Magic Show for the billionth time. Tony stops mumbling the lines under his breath to glance up at Gob.

“What do you mean?” He fiddles with Gob’s fingers where their hands are intertwined. It’s not a natural situation -- they aren’t exactly big on holding hands, but sometimes Tony will just… fall into it. Gob craves physical affection too much to complain about it.

He shrugs. “I mean-- I mean… This.” He gestures vaguely with his free hand. “Us. This works. Right?”

“Why wouldn’t it?” Tony laughs softly. “Is this about what Michael said?”

“You’re…” Gob tries to keep himself calm. “You’re asking so many questions. And it-- And it-- Michael? Why would it be… about… Michael, I don’t-- I--”

Tony squeezes Gob’s hand lightly. “Gobie,” He warns, because by now he can tell when Gob is about to send himself into panic. “Calm down, okay? You’re fine.”

“Yeah, I’m…” Gob takes a second to steady himself. “Fine. I’m fine. You’re just… It’s not about Michael, why would I…” He swallows his words. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Tony swears. “Are you okay?”

There’s a heavy silence in the room, and then Gob lets out a groan of frustration. “I try so hard! You know that. I try _so_ hard to make him happy. He’s never _once_ said he’s proud of me.”

“He’s not worth it,” Tony mutters. “I swear, he’s not worth it.”

“He’s my brother,” Gob says. “Of course he’s worth it. I just… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. He’ll never be happy with me, and he likes to… To…” Gob wrestles with his words, because he’s never been amazing at articulating his feelings, and lands on another noise to portray his frustration instead.

Luckily, it gets the point across well enough, and Tony doesn’t ask any more questions. He just nods and says, “Of course this works.”

The Magic Show plays on in the background, and Gob silently resigns himself to a lifetime of watching it, just for Tony. He thinks that it might not be so bad. That it might be worth it.

Yeah. Tony is definitely worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> this started off a little rocky but i think i fixed it up! am trying to finish all my in-verse ad fics before season five comes out and makes everything au


End file.
